Violence Fetish
by carryonmy-waywardson
Summary: Lucifer's wearing Sam's meat-suit, and he wants to let the boy know what it's like to torture; sequel to "The Sickness."


**Description:** Sequel to "The Sickness;" Song fic for Disturbed's "Violence Fetish."  
Lucifer seeks out Dean, Michael's vessel, in his new meat-suit; Sam. When he finds Dean, he lets Sam take over so he can know what it's like to torture.  
**Warnings:** Wincest, knife!kink, blood-play, blood drinking, torture, talk of Dean/Castiel, and demonic possession.  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the characters mentioned in this; nor do I own any of the lyrics. Characters, and song lyrics, belong to their rightful owners.  
**Word count:** 5,517

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_You are a time bomb ticking away,  
You need a release what you're feeling inside;  
Let out the beast that you're trying to hide.  
Step right up, and be a part of the action,  
Get your game face on because it's time to play.  
You're pushing and fighting your way..  
You're ripping it up!_

Lucifer moved his hands down the body of his vessel - of _Sam_ - and smiled to himself, thinking how amazing it felt to be inside Sam's body, inside his soul, rather than just having his _dick_ inside him. He could feel Sam in there with him - sharing the same body, the same _space_, and Lucifer smiled more, enjoying finally having a new vessel, one _finally_ strong enough for him.

"Okay, Sam," Lucifer said out loud, listening to Sam's voice, feeling Sam's lips moving as each word was spoken, and he shivered. Yes, Lucifer knew that being inside of Sam, inside of his golden boy, would be an amazing experience, but he hadn't known he'd enjoy it as much as he really was.

"Time to find Dean, and that angel of his." Lucifer spat, in Sam's voice, and pulled clothes on - Sam's clothes, and the scent of the human smelled even _more_ amazing within his own body. He stood in the middle of the motel room for a second, staring at his reflection in the mirror; lifting his hand to touch Sam's jaw, feeling _himself _shiver, instead of a body under him.

And in the blink of an eye - in this case, with a snap of fingers - Lucifer was out of the room, and in front of another motel, three cities away. He took a deep breath, the air filling his new lungs slowly, before he exhaled, walking to the office. Lucifer slid Sam's hand onto the knob, twisted it, and pushed it open, suddenly greeted with a blast of warm air and the smell of peppermint. Turning his nose at the smell, and the heat, he walked to the desk that sat in the middle of the room.

"Can I help you?" A woman's voice, high-pitched and cheerful, filled his ears and Lucifer smiled, knowing it was really _Sam's_, and slid his hands into the pockets of his jacket.

"Uh, yes," Lucifer said, still not getting used to hearing _his_ words come out of Sam's mouth. "I'm looking for my brother - Dean."

The receptionist smiled up at Lucifer, her brown eyes burning on Sam's hazel ones, before her attention turned to the computer beside her. Her fingers flew over the keys, before she nodded and grabbed a pad of post-it notes and a pen, scribbling numbers on the yellow stationary.

"Here's his room number," she handed the piece of paper to Lucifer - _Sam_ - and he smiled, nodding his head before turning to walk back out the door. Along with the room number, there was another one, longer than the first, and Lucifer rolled his eyes. "She gave me her number, that's sweet. She wouldn't if she knew I liked men," Lucifer thought to himself, and somewhere deep inside Sam's mind, he thought he heard chuckling.

Lucifer walked slowly in Sam's body, not fully adjusted to being in a meat-suit that was so _heavy_, not that Sam was fat - he was just larger, in every way, than Lucifer's past vessels. He stepped carefully, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, all while looking for Dean's room - 8B.

There were whispers coming toward Lucifer as he rounded the corner of the small, one-story motel, and he collided with another person, groaning loudly. Yeah, Sam was tall and muscular, but he was heavy, and falling against someone? Well, that hurt, _a lot_.

Lucifer groaned and pulled back from the human, rubbing Sam's hand over his head, sighing deeply. Then his eyes snapped up, and fell on Dean Winchester's, who had an expression on his face that was anything _but_ shocked, and happy.

Dean Winchester was the angels' playboy; he was the vessel for Michael, Lucifer's brother, and who threw him out of Heaven, and cast him into Hell. Lucifer growled within himself, which caused Sam to stir, and he forgot, momentarily, that he was inhabiting Dean's own flesh and blood.

"Dean," Lucifer said, trying to make his voice pleasant, while smiling at the man in front of him. He held his arms out, thinking that humans hugged when reunited with their families, only to have a fist slammed into his gut. Lucifer doubled over, clutching his stomach, more for show, rather than practicality, and spit absently onto the ground.

"You son of a bitch," Dean muttered, fist reared back, ready for another strike, but felt a hand wrap around his forearm instead.

"Dean," the voice made Lucifer's head snap up, so hard that if Sam hadn't had Lucifer inside him, his neck would have been broken. Then his eyes settled on the sight in front of him - Castiel, Dean's angel, was holding his arm, keeping him from attacking.

"He left, Cas, he fucking.." Dean grit his teeth, staring down at his brother - of which he didn't know had allowed the Devil inside of him - and growled. Lucifer smirked to himself, within Sam's body, and forced the human to a standing position.

"Dean, I'm sorry.. Azazel... he promised me things, things that he never gave me.." Lucifer tried to make Sam's voice as sad and pathetic as he could, while keeping Sam's eyes soft. "They did things to me Dean," he choked out in Sam's voice, "_horrible_ things.. Please, just.. let me come back."

He watched, with Sam, as Dean dropped his arm to his side, expression softening as he took in all the words his brother was saying. Then he nodded, taking a step closer and pulling Sam into a hug, crushing his body against the vessel's.

"Dean," Lucifer choked out, hands on either side of the hunter's arms as he tried to pull away, acting like he was gasping for breath. Dean pulled away, chuckling, and clapped Sam's shoulder - to which Lucifer _acted_ like it bothered him - and pulled him down the narrow walk-way and into his room.

"I've missed you, Sammy," Dean chuckled and Lucifer growled inside Sam's head - only _he_ was allowed to call Sam that.

"It's _Sam_," Lucifer almost growled, giving Dean a hard glare, before the oldest brother chuckled. "Sorry, sorry.." he muttered, falling onto the bed and grabbing his beer bottle before motioning for Sam to sit.

Sinking down into a chair, Lucifer sighed inside, and smiled at Dean on the outside; his eyes scrutinizing the hunter's every move. While he watched the human, Lucifer was thinking of ways to get him _away_; away from the motel, away from Castiel, and back to his torture chamber.

As Lucifer looked at Dean, he could feel a pair of eyes on him, watching _his_ every move, and he grew irritated; snapping his head to the side, he stared at Castiel. Pushing Sam's shoulders up, and splaying his hands out, Lucifer made the human look annoyed.

"What?" He heard in Sam's voice, and _god_, he would never get over the fact that he was _inside_ Sam, and the human was saying everything Lucifer wanted. With a heavy sigh, Lucifer watched Castiel walk to the middle of the room and stand in front of Dean.

"There's something different about Sam," Castiel mumbled, blue eyes searching every inch of Sam, almost as if he could see _through_ him. Lucifer chuckled and brought Sam's hands together, lacing his fingers as he stared straight ahead at the angel - the fucking angel, who was _protecting_ Dean, and keeping Lucifer from having his fun.

"I told you, Dean," Lucifer whispered, making Sam's eyes softer than before, as he looked up at Castiel, "I told _both_ of you.. I've seen things, awful.. scarring things that I will never get rid of.." Lucifer sighed and closed his eyes, thankful for the moment of darkness.

"I just want to be normal again; I want to be a family, you know? Do what Dad taught us to, Dean.." Lucifer made it sound like Sam was about to cry, and even managed to squeeze a few tears out - just for show.

"Cas, leave him alone," Dean muttered, pushing Castiel out of the way, his eyes set on Sam's meat-suit. "Can't you see he's been through enough?" Then the hunter's eyes were on his angel's, burning into him with an anger neither Lucifer, nor Castiel would have ever _imagined_ Dean was capable of.

"As you wish," Castiel muttered, turning to Sam and nodding his head. "I apologize, Sam - what I was said was... out of place. Can you forgive me?"

Lucifer opened Sam's eyes and rolled them, making the human chuckle as he shrugged. "I guess, but hey - can you give Dean and us some time, Cas? To catch up?" Sam's lips twisted into a smile, a _sweet_ one at that, and Lucifer watched as hesitation filled Castiel.

"Please," he said again, softer this time, and sighed, his hands now resting against his knees. Lucifer heard the angel sigh, then watched him nod, before he disappeared from the room completely; leaving Dean and himself alone.

"I missed you, Dean," Lucifer said as he stood up, walking over to the bed where Dean sat. He watched the human nod, and smile up at him before he sank on the bed beside him.

"Yeah, I missed you." Dean chuckled, almost nervously, and moved his hand to the side of his neck, rubbing his palm against his skin.

"You won't anymore," Lucifer whispered as he touched his hand to Dean's neck, watching as his eyes fluttered shut. Smiling, Lucifer kept his hand on Dean and snapped the fingers of his free hand, sending them both to a cold, dark room.

_How could live without playing the game?  
Sit on the side and expect to keep sane.  
Step right up and be a part of the action,  
Come get a piece of it before it's too late._

Dean blinked his eyes open, and he pulled at the straps that held him down, groaning as he looked around the room, panic taking over. He didn't know _how_ he got there, wherever that was, and he closed his eyes again, thinking about the last things he'd done before he blacked out.

He was sitting with Sam in the motel room, talking to him, and Sam had touched his neck.. That's when it all went black, and his memory was gone from that point. With a heavy sigh, Dean opened his eyes again, pulling again at the big, leather straps that held his wrists down. Tears fell from his eyes as he looked up at the ceiling and opened his mouth to scream, but nothing came out.

Then he heard footsteps, loud and heavy; echoing in the room, and making Dean shiver with every step. He _prayed_ it was Castiel, or someone that would save him, but when the light flicked on, his eyes fell upon Sam.

His brother was grinning, maneuvering a cart filled with a variety of knives, and he suddenly wanted to scream more; wanted to crawl inside himself so he wouldn't have to watch what was about to happen.

"Dean," Sam whispered - and for the moment, it _was_ Sam, his grin growing wider as he stepped closer to his brother on the table. Dean's eyes locked on his brother's and he whimpered, thrashing against the leather holding him down. He tried speaking, _tried_ screaming some kind of sense into Sam, but every word was muffled by the gag in his mouth.

"Oh, you want to talk," Sam muttered, stepping to the side of the table to remove the gag out of Dean's mouth. He grinned down at the hunter, who was stripped down to his boxers, trembling and sweaty on his torture table.

"You're not Sam," Dean choked out, his head falling back against the table, eyes shutting. He heard a familiar chuckle in his ear, followed by the heat of Sam's breath against his skin.

"Oh, no - it's me, Dean," Sam whispered, running his fingernails along Dean's throat, resting them against the base and barely pushing the nails in his skin. "See, Lucifer may be inside me," Sam's voice dropped as he spoke, his free hand grabbing a small pocketknife from the cart.

"But he thought I would enjoy this. And I've got to tell you, big brother," Sam brought the knife into Dean's vision and grinned, "I'm enjoying it _plenty._"

Then Sam brought the knife down to Dean's throat, dragging the tip of the blade against his pulse, grinning. He could feel his Master inside, grinning and urging him on; telling Sam how well he was doing, and telling him _exactly_ what to do.

"See, I figure," Sam started, chuckling as he shook his head, correcting himself, "I mean my _Master_ figures we can torture answers out of you." Sam heard Dean make a noise in his throat and he pulled away, watching as the blade danced along his collarbone, just barely pushing in.

Dean arched his back, pushing against the hold Sam had on him, and trying to pull away from the knife. He could feel the sharpness of the blade against his skin, _so close_ to slicing through, and whimpered loudly. Dean felt sick to his stomach, and he panted, closing his eyes to try and block most of it out.

"So, Dean..." Sam whispered, dragging the blade down Dean's chest and over his stomach, where he finally pushed it in; listening to Dean's breathing hitch, before he let out a scream. Laughing, Sam shook his head and pulled the blade down, slicing Dean even more, watching as blood dripped down his skin.

Dean swallowed hard, choking on a cough that tried to escape his throat, but only made him cough harder. "Sam.." he choked out, his eyes locked on his brother, but it wasn't _his_ brother, not the one he'd always known, anyway; this Sam was different, evil, and sadistic. Dean felt tears fall from his eyes again and he clenched them shut, drawing in a ragged breath.

"Mm?" Sam moaned, his eyes watching as a trail of blood slid down the middle of Dean's stomach. He licked his lips, before moving his attention back to his brother's face, and he grinned sadistically.

"Please.." Dean whimpered out, breathing hard as he struggled against the leather binds that held him in place, writhing under the knife. Sam shook his head, clicking his tongue as the tip of the blade dragged between the grooves of Dean's abs, barely cutting them.

Dean moaned, then screamed, and fell back against the table with a loud thud, panting harder than before. After his noises calmed down, Dean could hear Sam laughing, followed by the sound of metal clanking against metal.

"See, I don't think you _quite understand_ how important this is, Dean," Sam whispered, fingertips trailing over another blade - Ruby's demon-killing knife. Sure, Dean wasn't a demon, but it was serrated - it would hurt a _hell_ of a lot more, and draw more blood.

"We can't let the angels win, Dean," Sam's voice was an octave higher as he picked the blade up and turned his attention back to Dean, smiling wickedly. "We just can't - we would have mass chaos then." And with that, Sam crawled onto the table and straddled Dean's lap.

"_Sam_," Dean whined, closing his eyes at the weight on his legs, and took a deep, shaky breath. "Please don't do this.. just.. tell me what you want." Dean's voice was cracking as he spoke, and he opened his eyes, feeling tears roll down his face.

"I want you, Dean," Sam chuckled, leaning over his brother and pressing the tip of the dagger against his skin, biting his lower lip. "I've wanted you in this position," Sam let his eyes roam down his brother's body before he spoke again, "Since I learned that Michael wanted to wear you to the prom."

As he spoke, Sam dragged the knife down Dean's cheek, barely cutting it as he sucked in a deep breath; his body shivering in both anticipation, and excitement. He watched Dean's chest rise and fall and he smiled, running the knife down his brother's neck, barely nicking it.

"Sam, why are yo-" Dean tried to speak, but when he felt the jagged edge of the blade push against his skin, he screamed in agony. His skin felt like it was on fire, and the sweat only made the cuts burn more, sending him into another fit of screaming.

"Dean, Dean... Dean," Sam whispered as he lifted his free hand, running his fingertips along the cut on Dean's cheek. He watched as the dark-red liquid spread onto his own skin, and he smiled, moving his fingers down to Dean's chest.

"Don't you want this, Dean? I can feel you do.." Sam chuckled, pressing his jean-clad cock against Dean's, which was hard, much to Dean's surprise. "And it's either because of this," Sam twisted the knife in his hand, "or the fact that I'm sitting on top of you."

Raising an eyebrow, Sam watched Dean's expression as he used his brother's blood to write on his chest - writing one small, simple word - "mine." And he meant it, in every sense of the word; Dean was_ his_, and Lucifer's, and Sam loved the feeling of that.

"Heaven can't have you, Dean.." Sam leaned down, lips brushing Dean's as the edge of the knife brushed along his ribcage. "You remember hell, don't you? The screams, the _pleas_ for your God to save the damned souls that dwell there." The knife danced along Dean's skin, outlining his ribcage slowly as Sam kept talking.

"You remember Alistair? And how he would slice you up, just like this.." Sam put pressure on the knife, feeling it sink in Dean's sink just barely. "How you begged for _your_ life, screaming right along with those other pathetic souls.. But then you gave into Alistair; you allowed him to show you the art of torture.."

Sam's breath was hot against Dean's lips and he swallowed hard, whimpering and biting his own bottom lip to keep from screaming. His side felt like a fire was under his skin, burning his ribs and his lungs, and for that moment, Dean _wished_ he would catch on fire; prayed that he would just die under Sam's hand, under the knife.

"I remember," Dean croaked, closing his eyes and tightening his hands into fists, nails digging into his palms. He felt warm blood, mixed with sweat, rolling down his cheek and he could smell the iron in his own blood. Dean whimpered and sobbed underneath Sam, silently praying for things to be over - or for his life to end.

"Don't you want to go back? Spend eternity in hell with me, big brother?" Sam's lips moved slowly against Dean's, and he swallowed at the warm breath. Then he felt a hand running down his stomach, smearing the warm blood down his skin, before stopping at the edge of his waistband.

"We can do this for _days_, Dean." Sam whimpered out, before his mouth was on Dean's, fully. He tried kissing Dean, trying probing his tongue between Dean's lips, but the older Winchester wouldn't budge; he just laid there, lips pressed tightly together.

Sam pulled away, pouting and running the blade back along Dean's side. Then he was leaning down, despite several demands from his Master, and placed his mouth over the cut on Dean's neck; licking and sucking at the blood that was dripping from the wound.

Dean moaned loudly, this time both from pain _and_ pleasure, and whined, panting loudly as he pushed his hips up against Sam's hand.

"Let my hands go, Sammy," Dean whimpered, pulling at the leather straps, yet again, and gritting his teeth. He just wanted his _hands_ free so he could shove them in Sam's hair, and run them along his body.

"If I do, will you be good?" Sam's voice was hot against Dean's skin, against the cut, and he whined louder, screaming the word 'yes' out at the top of his lungs. Chuckling, Sam brought the knife to the strap holding Dean's left wrist down, maneuvering the blade under the leather. Then he twisted the knife, serrated edge up, and started sawing at the thick material.

"Thank you, Sammy," Dean moaned, turning his head to watch the knife's edge cutting through the leather. He breathed hard when Sam was almost through the material, and moaned even louder once it snapped. Then he watched as Sam did the same to the other strap; sawing it as quickly as possible, before he felt the material away from his skin.

He sat up, pushing Sam up before his lips were crashing against his younger brother's; moaning and whining in the kiss. His side was burning, but now it felt _almost_ nice, and he reached for Sam's hand, the one he was holding the knife with.

Pulling away, Dean panted and rested his head against Sam's, smiling as he looked in his brother's eyes.

"Keep going," he whispered, swallowing hard as he pulled back more, leaning back on shaky arms. He watched Sam's hazel eyes light up and then his lips were turned into another grin, before the tip of the knife ran under the waistband of his boxers.

_Take a look around;  
You can't deny what you see.  
We're living in a violent society,  
Well my brother let me show you a better way.  
So get your game face on because it's time to play;  
You're pushing and fighting your way,  
You're ripping it up._

Sam pulled the fabric of Dean's boxers down with the blade of the knife, watching his brother's eyes and biting his lower lip. Sure, he had _hoped_ Dean would get into it, but watching him struggle, hearing him beg Sam to stop... well, that only made it hotter for him.

"Sam," Dean breathed out and lifted his hips, allowing his boxers to slide down his legs as he watched Sam move to pull them down with his hands. Then the knife was on his lower abdomen, traveling up his abs once more and just barely breaking the skin. Throwing his head back, Dean sucked in a deep breath and pushed his hips up; growling low in his throat.

He felt Sam's lips against his thighs, kissing them softly as he pushed the blade up his chest, and onto his shoulder; dragging the blade down Dean's bicep slowly. Moaning louder, Dean sank his teeth into his lower lip and shot a hand out, bunching his fingers in Sam's hair and yanking him up; bringing Sam's lips to his cock.

"Someone's impatient," Sam growled as he looked up at Dean through his eyelashes, a grin on his lips. As he leaned down, Sam could feel his master groan within his own body and his eyes snapped shut as a low moan escaped his lips.

"Mmm.." Dean replied, tugging Sam's hair harder, until the youngest Winchester yelped. Chuckling, Dean lay back on the table, moving his free hand to Sam's, guiding the knife down his side again, only inches away from the cut Sam had made moments earlier. He pushed down on Sam's hand, pushing the blade into his skin again and hissed, shutting his eyes and drawing in a deep breath.

"Dean," Sam moaned as he ran his tongue along the head of Dean's cock, then down his shaft slowly, causing Dean to buck his hips up. Grinning more, Sam moved his free hand to Dean's hip, holding it down as he teased Dean; swirling his tongue along the base of his cock, then back up slowly.

Dean breathed heavily, fingers combing roughly through Sam's hair as he dug his nails into his brother's arm; dragging them up and down slowly. Sam let out a groan just as he took Dean's cock into his mouth; deep-throating it and letting his eyes close as he felt the head hitting the back of his throat.

"Oh god _damn_, Sammy.." Dean was moaning and writhing against Sam's hand and the knife, causing the blade to cut him even more. Sucking in a breath, Dean could feel blood dripping down his side, and he pushed his hips up, fucking Sam's mouth.

Making muffled noises, Sam worked over Dean's cock the best he could; sucking the shaft hard and swirling his tongue over it, as much as he could. When he heard Dean moan louder and _felt_ his hips pushing up against his mouth, Sam moaned against it more as he dragged the knife down to Dean's hip.

Dean whimpered and pushed his hip up against the knife, feeling it dig into his skin and he pulled Sam's hair harder; pulling his mouth off of his cock.

"Fuck me, Sammy." Dean growled, wrapping his hand around Sam's neck and pulling him up, his other hand moving to his brother's jeans. "Just.. get on my cock and ride me, please," Dean panted while his fingers moved across the zipper of Sam's jeans, and in seconds he had it down, and had the button undone.

_Let him, with no lube; make it hurt, Sammy_, Lucifer whispered to Sam, and he nodded, dropping the knife to the floor before grabbing the ends of his shirt; yanking it up, and pulling it over his head, he tossed it to the floor. Then he was standing on the floor, pulling his jeans off, along with his boxers, before crawling on top of Dean once more.

"Sammy.." Dean whispered, running his fingertips over the scars left on his brother's body; he touched a long one, on his chest, and swallowed hard. His eyes found their way up, until he was staring at a pair of big, hazel eyes. Sighing, Dean leaned up and pressed his lips against Sam's, moving his hands to his hips, and pulling him onto his lap more.

"Fuck me," Sam whispered, when he pulled away from Dean's lips, his eyes falling on his older brother's. Dean swallowed hard and nodded, leaning back on one arm to watch Sam lift himself up, and position his ass right above Dean's cock.

Dean swallowed again, his free hand rested on Sam's hip as he watched the young man slide himself onto Dean's length. Both men moaned out, and Sam winced slightly, having only the head of Dean's cock inside of him.

"Go slow," Dean whispered, running his hand along Sam's stomach, watching as he bit his lip. Pushing himself up, Dean wrapped his arm around Sam's waist and kissed his chest, kissing over the scars that were put there, feeling another inch of his cock sliding into Sam's ass.

"Dean," Sam whimpered, before pushing himself down onto Dean more, letting out a scream. He could hear his Master moaning inside his mind and he shut his eyes, swallowing hard. Sitting there for a minute, Sam allowed himself to adjust to Dean's cock as he moved his hand to Dean's hair, tugging his head back.

"Grab a knife," Sam whispered, eyes darting to the cart beside the table where his knives lay, before his attention went back to Dean. He watched as hesitation flashed over Dean's face, and eyes, before he nodded, reluctantly.

Reaching over, Dean took one of the smaller knives and brought it back, gripping the handle tightly as he looked up at Sam.

"What do you want me to do with this?" He asked as he pushed his hips up against Sam's and watched as his eyes shut. Sam opened his mouth, drawing in a deep breath before swallowing and whispering, "I want you to cut me, Dean.."

The thought of _cutting_ Sam made Dean shiver, and push harder into his brother; moaning softly as he held the blade tighter. He took a deep breath, nodded and brought the blade to Sam's shoulder, barely pressing against it until the skin gave in, and there was blood spilling down Sam's tan, scarred skin.

Moaning, Sam arched his back and cocked his head to the side, chewing on his lip as he leaned back on his hands. As he felt the blood flow down his skin, Sam started moving his hips against Dean; slowly at first, but picking up the pace as Dean moved the blade along his neck, then his collarbone.

The knife dipped into the crevice between the base of Sam's neck and his clavicle, cutting it with ease, making him fuck Dean harder. The faster Sam's hips moved along Dean's, the harder it was for Dean to keep a steady hand and he nicked Sam's neck, causing him to scream out.

"Sam," Dean grunted through his teeth and pushed his hips up against Sam's, wrapping his free hand around Sam's hip bone, squeezing it softly. As Sam rode him, Dean continued moving the knife down; cutting his chest, stomach, sides, and even his thighs in various places, reveling in Sam's moans of pleasure - both from the cuts, and from his cock.

"Dean," Sam screamed out, sitting up again and wrapping his arms around Dean's neck as he dropped his head. Breathing hard, Sam rode Dean even harder, whimpering and moaning louder as he felt his and Dean's sweat dropping into the cuts.

"Sam, fuck me harder," Dean growled as he dropped the knife back onto the cart and slipped his hand in between their bodies; wrapping it around Sam's hard cock. Gripping it tightly, Dean started stroking Sam slowly, listening to his noises get louder, and his breathing grow heavier.

The sounds, mixed with the feeling of Sam's muscles tightening around him, made Dean's cock throb, and his balls tighten. He panted, dropping his head to Sam's shoulder, biting the skin around the cut that was there and gripping Sam's hips tighter when he screamed.

Sam slammed himself down on Dean; fingertips gripping at his sweat-slick back, skidding down the length of his spine and stopping at the small of his back. He heard Dean let out a loud growl against his neck, before he felt Dean cumming inside of him, his hand wrapping tightly around Sam's cock, giving it a few more tugs.

"_Dean!_" Sam screamed, throwing his head back as he felt his entire body spasm, before shooting hot, thick streams of cum all over Dean's chest and hand, breathing hard. He heard a chuckle before feeling Dean pull away and pull his hips up; gesturing for him to get off his lap.

Sam nodded weakly, pushing himself off Dean's cock, before he fell on his knees next to the table. He stared at Dean with a small smile on his face, and for a moment, Dean _swore_ it was his Sammy; the one he'd grown up with, and traveled the country, saving people with.

Then Sam's eyes flashed from hazel to red, and his hand was on Dean's leg, gripping it tight and burning his skin. Dean yelped, swallowed hard and shut his eyes; preparing for the worst, but when he opened his eyes, he was back in his hotel room.

Castiel sat on the edge of the bed, and Dean stood in the middle of the room, clad only in thin boxers, with blood and sweat dripping down his skin.

"Lucifer found you," Castiel spoke; and it wasn't a _question_, it was an observation. Dean nodded his head, took a step but fell to the ground in front of the angel.

"It was in Sam," Dean breathed, dropping his head in his hands and shaking it back and forth quickly. He heard Castiel sigh, before the angel's hands were against his back and he felt an electric shock pass through his body, and suddenly his ribs hurt.

"The fuck was that?" Dean choked out, his eyes looking up at Castiel, who had a small smile on his face.

"Enochian sigils, it'll keep evil from finding you." Castiel's voice was soft, emotionless, as he stared into Dean's eyes.

"So... I can't see Sam again," Dean dropped his eyes and fell back, sitting on his heels. He looked up and watched the angel shake his head, before he looked down at the carpet.

Miles away, in the same shabby motel room he'd been staying in, Sam was sitting on his bed, talking to himself, but really - he was talking to Lucifer.

"I don't want to hurt him," Sam whispered softly, even though he _didn't_ have to speak to have a conversation with his Master; Lucifer could read his mind.

_I'm sorry, Sam; you chose this life, and that's a part of it,_ Lucifer whispered to Sam, and the young man sighed; laying back on the bed.

"Yes, Master," Sam whispered, and with that he was gone; Lucifer took over once more, putting Sam to sleep. He wouldn't let _Sam_ hurt Dean anymore, he would just use his body, his hands, to do it himself.


End file.
